


Tales of Love, Family and Loss

by fouryearslater (CheshireCatLife)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: As This Was Written Before Shadowhunters Came Out, First Dates, First Kiss, First Meetings, Heavily Book Based, I've rewritten literally the entirety of one of the fics I wrote when I was like 12, M/M, Oh god, One Shot Collection, Rewrite, This is also only based off the mortal instruments, Wow, because I only just read them, but god that makes me sad because its such a good series, not the dark artifices, so please help me, that's just hit me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21851545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheshireCatLife/pseuds/fouryearslater
Summary: A collection of one-shots about Magnus and Alec, separated into six categories for you to peruse.[at the beginning of each 'part', there will be a description of all the one-shots within the category]Part I: A Very Malec...[canon-divergent AUs]Part II: Maxwell Lightwood-Bane is..[a series following Magnus and Alec's son Max]Part III: Songs of Yours[based on songs/lyrics]Part IV: Losses of Yours[angst]Part V: Companions of Yours[crossovers]Part VI: The Last of Yours[the rest]
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Kudos: 36





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a complete re-write of my previous work, 'Magnus X Alec One Shots'. It was originally posted on Wattpad and is now incredibly outdated in its style and content. And by that I mean, I wrote it when I was much younger than I am now on a website that demanded much different content (which I'm glad I no longer have to see a lot of the time, although Wattpad did have its gems). Therefore, I decided to both contribute to the fandom I've recently returned to and use this as writing practice.
> 
> Also, please read the tags. Thanks! :)  
> [on top of that, feedback is greatly appreciated although in this case, any talk of plot is pretty much wasted because some of them were barely salvageable if any of the original content was going to stay]
> 
> -fouryearslater

* * *

**PART 1: A Very Malec ______**

* * *

Features:

_1\. Meeting_

[a book canon re-write where their first meeting goes just a little differently]

_2\. Date_

[Magnus shows his romantic side]

_3\. Christmas_

[Both of them are far too excited for the upcoming holiday season]

_4\. Proposal_

[Magnus decides it's time to ask the question]

_5\. Wedding_

[A very fluffy wedding one-shot]


	2. A Very Malec Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec and his friends go to investigate Magnus Bane's party after finding that he put a block on Clary's mind. Alec gets more than he dealt for. Not that that's a bad thing, of course.
> 
> [a book-movie fusion with small bits of characterisation from the TV show]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm happy with the turnout of this one. Although I think the plot is quite dull if you've read the books because it's very, very similar, I think the writing came out good.
> 
> Feel free to comment what you think :) [even if it's awful]
> 
> -fouryearslater

The loft had been filled to its capacity before yet this time was different. Despite the claustrophobic crush of bodies, Magnus didn’t even begin to feel it. His eyes were on the other side of the room, steadfast in their staring. The boy had blue eyes; it was that simple. Blue eyes and dark hair in a combination that Magnus couldn’t begin to resist. Yet it wasn’t the combination that caught his attention. No, it was the colour of ice that pierced everything is saw. Eyes that stared at Magnus and didn’t pass him, didn’t look through him. They saw him. And they pierced through to his very heart. Magnus gazed at them like they were the crown jewels themselves until the boy finally realised his attention was being returned, blushing even under the blue strobe lights.

With a sudden bout of confidence, Magnus approached. He noted the group surrounding him and almost stopped in his path. Now, it was almost as clear as day the rune running up the side of the boy’s neck. Black in contrast to his almost white skin. Shadowhunters. But not just them. Magnus’ cat eyes caught sight of Clary, a girl he’d known since she was little, and another mundane that he would guess was her best friend (if Clary’s old stories were anything to go by). What was his name again?

Something was wrong.

But the eyes were still on him.

Magnus’ feet dragged him forward unwittingly, dragged in by Winter’s eyes. Boycott on Shadowhunters or not, this was something he couldn’t turn away from. Something in the back of his head screamed at him to stop. Clary’s appearance only meant one thing and he really didn’t want to confront it.

The boy’s eyes were still locked on his, the red on his cheeks almost like poison, as dark as a ripe apple. It only seemed to worsen when he looked down and saw Magnus’ lack of trousers. A choice he didn’t regret.

“You like the party?” He asked with a sly smirk, enjoying the embarrassment of the boy. He wished he knew his name. The words kept the boy’s focus, which seemed to drift to the extravagant party. It was a compliment, really. Magnus didn’t often blend in with a crowd. Leaning against a marble pillar, eyes still on the boy, he waited for an answer. None seemed to come for far too long but Magnus passed the time wistfully missing the blue as black hair fell into the boy’s eyes.

His attention was eventually diverted when Clary spoke up. “Is it in honour of anything?” she asked, her voice surprisingly high (Lord, it must not have changed since she was ten).

“My cat’s birthday,” he said dismissively, his focus already back on the boy. He seemed to be hiding in the crowd but everything about him was a dichotomy to the setting. It was more beautiful than anything Magnus had seen in the last century.

“Oh,” Clary continued anyway. Her eyes were wandering but landed on Magnus once again. “Where are they?” Magnus unhitched himself from the pillar, face solemn (a tease in actuality). “I don’t know. He ran away.” It was true but not really all that important. One spell and he’d be back. And anyway, Magnus liked giving his cats their freedoms.

Finally, the boy stepped forward. Magnus was about to open his mouth but was beaten to it. Another Shadowhunter had stepped forward, golden and ordinary looking, placing the boy in his Shadowhunter as he demanded information. It wasn’t really putting him in any good books.

“We just need-”

“Shut up, Shadowhunter. If I’m going to help you, I want something in return.”

Warily, the golden boy answered. “What?”

“His name and number,” Magnus revealed, unfurling a finger to point at the boy.

“Wh-” golden boy tried

“Fine,” the other boy interrupted, huffing. “I’m Alexan- Alec Lightwood.” He hesitated for a moment before digging his phone out of his pocket and showing Magnus his number. “That’s my number. Now, can you help us?”

“In such a rush,” Magnus teased, taking the moment to revel in the boy’s- Alexander’s attention. A beautiful name for a beautiful man. He looked down at Alec and waited for him to say anything else, ignoring the confused stares of the group around him.

“Can you help us?” The blonde one repeated facetiously. Shadowhunters. From there, they went into a long-winded explanation about what Magnus was actually supposed to be helping with again but his attention was on his thoughts, losing himself into the usually melancholy of went on inside his own head. Magnus had perfected the art of performance. He hadn’t yet perfected the art of self-care.

“Yes, yes,” he finally cut in, motioning dismissively with his hand as his eyes landed on Alexander again. “But I’m only helping because of the hot one.” Magnus winked, holding back a laugh at the tomato-like colour Alec was turning. It only stayed a while though. For now, he had things to get one with. Flirting could come later.

Or soon.

Yes, soon. That sounded like a better plan.

~*~

Magnus had beckoned Clary, leaving the rest of the group to their devices. And that meant Alec had the time to understand what the hell just happened. With the sudden urge to burn away the embarrassment, he almost ran to the bar and collapsed onto the end of it, hailing for a drink he’d never actually drink. Something unpleasant was creeping through his mind. Magnus had been forward. Very forward. And despite the pleasant rush at the time, the aftershocks were too uncomfortable to be right.

The usual thoughts ran through Alec’s mind. The ones that said he was too boring or quiet or frankly, just not as good as Jace. The thought that Magnus would place him above was almost unheard of. Life in the shadow of someone else’s greatness tended to teach you that you should keep your expectations low.

The thoughts swirled dangerously through the time his drink had been poured and handed over (didn’t cost anything, warlocks really weren’t stingy), giving him a few minutes to sip quietly at the whiskey, coughing at the first burn. After a few attempts, he’d given up and now just let it sit against his lips every now and then to make sure no one tried to converse with him. Not that they’d really try; he was a Shadowhunter at a Downworlder party. He was getting little more than baleful looks and violent glares. But there were a few curious hopers out there and Alec wasn’t going to humour them.

It was as he raised the tumbler to his lips that a shadow formed at his side. He sighed quietly, going over the best tactics to dispel newcomers, and turned. It was Magnus. His eyes darted to Clary on the other side of the loft, who now looked nothing but distraught. Clearly, Magnus hadn’t been much help. But Alec didn’t dwell, couldn’t dwell. Not when Magnus was there…staring…

This man was cruel. The warlock was unfairly good-looking and the lack of trousers really helped nothing of the situation. His cat eyes sparkled in the lights like they’d been designed just for him (and maybe they had) and the intent in them scorched. Suddenly, he smiled, and Alec realised with a burning embarrassment that his cheeks were dark, causing a spiralled problem that only seemed to amuse the warlock further.

“Hello, Alexander,” he purred, entrancing Alec into irrationality.

“Hi,” he managed to murmur, voice breaking like a fourteen-year-old halfway through. The permanent blush didn’t seem like it was going to fade any time soon.

“I was just wondering whether you’d like to come with me?”

“Where?” Alec blurted, shaking his head frantically afterwards like it might just take it back.

“Just upstairs. I’d like to show you some more of my apartment. And we have some things to discuss.” Well, Alec couldn’t say no, could he? They’d come here for a reason and that was to get information and if Clary had failed to clearly then he guessed it was up to him to at least get something.

None of the rest of the group seemed to notice as he followed Magnus through the crowds. They were all attempting to make the most of their time before a Downworlder inevitably provoked them (or, more likely, Jace provoked them) or Clary, the new light of Jace’s life (short-lived, Alec was sure of it) or Simon, the irritating mundane, got them into trouble.

Something dropped in his gut at the realisation that he’d been forgotten. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to it, far from it, but it was still a bitter pill to swallow. His sister was usually there to at least wave at him from time to time as he made his way through his usual wallflower routine.

Alec hadn’t realised he’d stopped until Magnus turned back to look at him. “Alexander?” He called over the music, which had now switched to an African-drum dance hit that had people flooding to the dancefloor. Alec had never heard it before; maybe it was a Downworlder thing. Alec blinked and regained his sense of reality. Blinking a few more times, he remained silent and followed Magnus through the crowds that seemed to part for him. It was evident that this was Magnus’ party through and through now. Even in silence, there was inexplicable deference towards Magnus, like he was the King of the Night.

His thoughts no longer mattered as Magnus led him up a spiral, metal staircase up into the other half of his apartment. There was a door at the top which Magnus unlocked with a click of his fingers, leading the way inside with a flourishing hand.

Alec blanked.

The loft downstairs, evidently, had been designed for the party. Muck had covered the looming windows and the atmosphere was reticent of 90s grunge. The living room, though, was like from another world. Decorated in lush red and a variety of sequins and glitter, the sophisticated furniture felt both ancient and young. Like Magnus, in a way. It suited the very little Alec knew about Magnus to the T. In the steady moonlight, it shimmered and shined, letting shadows play in corners whilst still putting the seating in the spotlight, welcoming any guest who was invited inside.

Magnus strode the couch and collapsed onto it, beckoning Alec to join, who obliged anxiously, body rigid as he perched down on the very edge, shuffling awkwardly away from Magnus. The beauty of the apartment may have been designed to welcome guests, but it was suddenly settling in just how out of place Alec was. In his entirely black getup, he felt like a dirty stain on the red, soiling the delicately placed décor with his mere presence. His stomach flipped, a familiar feeling nowadays. It wasn’t just being out of place that was spiralling him into panic. The mere realisation of what he was doing was settling in. Sure, Magnus had wanted to ‘talk’, but they could have done that downstairs. Or outside.

Just not here.

Alec couldn’t settle the feelings inside. For a long time, he’d crushed on Jace. Safe, safe, Jace, who would never say anything and would never be available. Now, he was being half-propositioned (right?) by a glittery warlock in what seemed to be some bad timing on Alec’s part. This last week had not put him in the best of moods.

“Are we-”

Magnus kissed him.

Or, well, he nearly did. He leaned in, so close that Alec felt Magnus’ breath on his face. “Can I?” Alec didn’t think he had it in him to say no. He nodded.

It was nice, Alec thought, for a first kiss. It wasn’t explosive but it wasn’t horrible. Then, he realised with a sinking realisation, it was probably because he was doing something wrong, wasn’t he? He froze where he was, insecurity paralysing him. Magnus pulled away suddenly, eyes wide. “Is something wrong?” It was probably the most serious Alec had ever seen him.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Alec tried to reassure whilst sounding the least reassuring he could possibly sound.

“No, it’s not. What happened.”

“It’s just- just- was that okay? I mean, that was my first kiss and all and-”

“That was what?”

“My…first kiss?” Alec replied hesitantly.

“It was what?”

Alec huffed. “You know what I said.”

“But-”

“What?”

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Wait, you’re taking it back? Was it that bad?”

“Bad? It wasn’t bad at all! But-”

“Really?”

“Of course not! Okay, we need to stop. Did I just steal your first kiss?”

“Well, I gave you permission.”

“Oh, this is awful.”

“I said you could! And…well…” Alec didn’t know where he was mustering his courage from. “I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“Really? Because I know Shadowhunt-”

“Let’s not talk about that right now.”

“You’re right. Boring talk can happen later.”

“Right.”

And they were kissing again. Somehow, it was so much better. It was like the realisation that Alec didn’t know what he was doing spurred something in Magnus to do something. The feelings that weren’t there earlier, exploded. The kiss was like everything Alec had imagined and more.

He pulled away slowly, a large grin on his face as their eyes met. In a moment, they were both lost again, new feelings hitting in a tidal-wave rush. Magnus knew the feeling intimately and Alec did not, yet it made no difference, the rush was magical and incomprehensible and unstoppable. Even a grumpy, old warlock couldn’t deny the feeling.

Magnus was about to lean in again as a loud knock resounded through the upper apartment. In just as quick a moment, the feeling was broken. It lingered in Alec’s subconscious but was overtaken by paranoia as Isabelle’s voice travelled through the door. “Magnus, open up!” She called, knocking again. “Come on! I know you’re in there!” Magnus groaned but stood up, rolling his shoulders back as he started to approach the door.

“No!” Alec hissed, grabbing Magnus’ arm. “That’s my sister! She can’t know I’m here.” Magnus looked confused but didn’t question it (which Alec would be eternally grateful for), motioning for Alec to go into his bedroom. He obliged easily, sprinting into the unfamiliar room and leaving Magnus to fend for himself.

Once the door had closed, Magnus opened the door with an aggrieved sigh. Shadowhunters, he reminded himself, not worth the effort. He recognised the girl at the door, who had the same dark hair as Alec, tied back into a tight ponytail, but darker eyes that made Magnus miss Alec already. So, this was Alec’s sister, he mused silently. He didn’t even know her name.

That didn’t matter, though. What mattered was the terror plaguing her face. Magnus didn’t think he’d ever seen a Shadowhunter like that when not either in mortal danger or faced with the death of a loved one. “Is Alec here?” She asked before Magnus could speak, surprisingly composed for someone who looked so shell-shocked. She was panting like she’d just run a mile, not up a flight of stairs. And Magnus thought they had stamina runes.

He paused for a moment before deciding to lie. If it was an emergency, he could send Alec himself. “No. He’s downstairs, I think. Why?” He lied smoothly.

“Simon’s gone missing.”

“Shame.” Magnus thought it would be a lot worse than that. Mundanes went missing all the time; it was like a rule of thumb for them. “Guess I can’t be of much help then. Goodbye,” he stated decisively before slamming the door in her face. One her retreating footsteps faded out, he made his way to his room, knocking on the door (for reason’s he didn’t quite understand himself; it wasn’t like Alec would be doing much in there). “Alec? It’s clear. You can go.” Alec flung the door open, looking as harried as his sister. Clearly, he’d heard their conversation.

Alec rushed to the door, flattening his hair as he went. Once he grabbed the doorknob, he turned for just a moment. “Thanks, Magnus, but I need to go.” Magnus just nodded, sighing regretfully as the door closed behind his new favourite Shadowhunter.

There was a moment where he was going to run after him but he decided against it. After all, he had his number.


	3. A Very Malec Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I love you' is a phrase that is both not enough and everything at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm back!
> 
> This chapter is a lot better written, I'd say. However, the plot is still fairly thin but more interesting than the last and it's more concise than completely weird. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> -fouryearslater

The streets were desolate, darkness claiming the sky as they meandered through the Brooklyn blocks. It had just reached nine yet their meaningless wandering didn’t cease. They walked towards a destination unknown to both of them, hands loosely weaved between them. 

Magnus’ reservation at the restaurant had been fulfilled, leaving their stomachs full and wistful smiles on their faces. Alec had fawned over the meal like it was the best food he’d ever seen (and it might just have been) whilst Magnus smiled behind his hand, trying to hide just how soft Alec made him feel. 

It was when they were winding their way towards the park that an idea sparked in Magnus’ mind. He clicked his fingers, hoping his imagination and magic were strong enough to work together on this. He’d never been too good at bringing about things he hadn’t seen before but the image in his mind was strong and the rush of magic told him that his spell was working, at least to some extent. 

It was a struggle to hide his magic from Alec but he kept his free hand behind him, the click as gentle as the rustle of the trees’ branches. It was even harder to keep his mind focused when his eyes could see Alec in a suit. Despite being the usual black, it fit him well, clinging to all the right places.

Magnus was never so glad for Shadowhunter workouts.

When the spell was complete, Magnus began to walk in earnest, ignoring Alec’s curious gazes. He’d long since learnt to tell when Magnus was brewing something; he’d also learnt long ago that he was better not questioning it. 

The park was desolate, the frigid January air keeping away even the bravest of mundanes. Magnus steered them away from the usual Downworlder hangouts and reminded Alec to put on a heating rune, casting another spell – on himself this time – to keep away the icy winds.

It took some winding but it was worth it in the end. They carved their way through a small gap in the bushes, light spilling out like blood from a wound. Alec went through first, allowing Magnus to hear his surprised gasp the moment his spine straightened. 

Amid the empty plane in this hidden corner of the park, was a gazebo. Fairy lights were strung artfully across its roof and out into the surrounding trees, creating artificial starlight in the sky. It was like a dream, shining brightly in their hidden rendezvous. They continued until they couldn’t see anymore, creating a spiderweb of light, flashing pinks, blues and purples onto the green and white. 

Magnus preened. It’s exactly as he’d imagined. 

Alec turned to Magnus, eyes wide and lips parted. “Magnus,” he gasped. “How?” He rushed towards the gazebo before Magnus could answer, keeping the man in tow, a small laugh escaping past his lips.

“It’s a secret.”

Alec slowly turned, taking in the trail of stars and caught Magnus’ eye, a smile erupting on his face. His teeth glistened under the light and for a moment, Magnus was caught off guard by the sight. Alec’s smiles were on less sincere than anyone else’s but they were small, like a secret not meant to be told. Yet here he was, grinning maniacally at a romantic gesture that Magnus hadn’t even really planned. It was beautiful. “Thank you,” Alec whispered, like he was afraid to break the serene quiet. “By the Angel, thank you so much.” He wrapped his arms around Magnus and pulled him tight. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this but-”

“You didn’t need to do anything. You deserve everything.”

“Magnus,” he complained, unshed tears blinked away frantically. Even now, Alec refused to cry. Not that Magnus minded too much; he was often the same. 

“You do. So,” he clicked his fingers, “how about a drink?” A bench sprung to life, taking centre-stage, a small side-table beside it proudly presenting two Mojitos (the only cocktail Alec had ever drunk and genuinely enjoyed). Perfect. 

Alec laughed, taking a spot on the bench before picking up his drink, spinning the spine of the glass between his fingers. “I can’t believe you,” Alec joked as Magnus sat down next to him. Magnus smirked, finger dipping into the cocktail and swirling it absent-mindedly. “I’m full of surprises.”

Alec looked at him and suddenly it was like his gaze couldn’t be pushed away. Their sightlines froze to ice, small cracks forming as the tension pulsed. Magnus leaned forwards first, ever the instigator, but it was Alec who dragged him the last mile, lips pressing hard against Magnus’.

Alec sometimes wished he could claim there were fireworks. There weren’t. But there was some different, something almost better. His blood pounded with fire, alight with nerves and ecstasy. Yet it was also serene, soft beyond ethereality. A heady combination that kept him returning for more. 

“I love you,” Alec gasped before he could take them back, trying forcefully for his smile to hold power over his nerves. Magnus’ whole demeanour softened, his usual spark replaced by a gentle glistening. “I love you too.” The laughter that followed was intoxicated by their excitement, unwitting kisses being shared between large sips of their drink and uninhibited stories.

“You’re perfect,” Magnus finally whispered, as their night came to a close. “Really,” he added when Alec scoffed. “That angel blood is making you far too good.”

“As if that makes a difference. You’re a better man than I could ever be.”

“Agree to disagree,” Magnus said. This could go on forever if he didn’t stop it early. “Mr Perfect.”

“Stop it,” Alec deadpanned.

“Never,” Magnus teased, grinning widely. “Perfect, perfect, perfect-“

“You are a _child_.”

“Say that again when you know how old I am.”

“Still not going to tell me?”

Magnus kissed his cheek. “At a later date, sweetheart.” The silence that descended afterwards was as heavenly as Magnus’ blood wasn’t. The earlier rush left both of them buzzing, uncontrollably happy under the night sky. 

They _loved_ each other.

Magnus reached across and took Alec’s hand in his own, taking a deep breath. _This_ …this was all he needed. For as long as they could have it (though the thought didn’t need exploring). No regrets.

Magnus didn’t think he could ever regret this.


	4. A Very Malec Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happier with this one! Probably just because of the length, but it also has a little more story (although I really had to alter it up because apparently I thought you could shop on Christmas Day). It's becoming almost awful to read what I've written (some of it is just straight up bad in the moral sense) but hopefully I'm fixing it!
> 
> Enjoy :D

Alec rushed into the room, careful to be silent. Uselessly, at that, Magnus had woken when the door had squawked open. With a quick click of his finger, he cleaned the hinges, hoping that it would stop the incessant noise anytime either of them was trying to sneak about. Which was a shameful number of times. “Magnus,” Alec hissed, grin unbearably wide for this time in the morning. “Magnus, it’s Christmas.”

“Yes. And why does that constitute at getting up at seven in the morning?”

“I used to have to get up before Izzy to make sure she didn’t try to cook breakfast. It’s tradition now.”

“I’m not much of a traditional guy.”

“You’re god-knows-how-many-years-old, you’re the definition of traditional.”

“I preferred it when you were shy,” Magnus groaned, flopping over so he was lying on his stomach, face mashed into the pillow. But there was a smile on his face too, even if it had a painful amount of cotton in it.

This would be Alec’s first even real Christmas.

Of course, the Institute did their own odd quasi-Christian rituals but Christmas day didn’t free them from demons and they did just as much work as they would any other day, except they might just get a slightly nice meal at the end of it.

This year, there were other Shadowhunters to hunt demons and save the world. Today, Magnus had Alec to himself and could show him the true wonders of Christmas. Although they would have to attend the Institute party before their night shift, but Magnus had deemed to ignore that.

Since the 6th December, they’d had their Christmas tree up (or magicked up), taking up too large a space in Magnus’ loft, which had begun their newly forming Christmas. They’d decorated it by hand, even if it took longer, and Magnus had revelled at Alec’s frustration as he tried to untangle the lights (served him right). Since then, traditions had been flying in day by day. Drinks on Christmas Eve’s Eve, a couples Christmas Eve. Then the drinking all the different cocktails they found they both liked or endlessly arguing over the colour of the lights (“colourful is fun!” Magnus had argued. “But the white looks like snow!” Alec had fought back vehemently. Magnus had capitulated eventually, this wasn’t his first proper Christmas, and it certainly wouldn’t be his last, he could have coloured lights another year).

“Come on,” Alec whined, “get up.”

“Fine,” Magnus huffed, though his smile betrayed him. “But you’re cooking breakfast.”

“Of course,” Alec agreed, pressing a kiss to Magnus’ cheek. Slowly, his lips trailed to Magnus’ as the man fell onto his back, leading them to an impromptu make-out session that almost eradicated Alec’s morning plans. “Save that for tonight,” Magnus muttered against his lips when time went too far, pushing himself up, leaning back on his hands. He smirked when Alec turned a deep shade of red.

Stretching, sighing at the blissful click of his back (and ignoring Alec’s horrified shudder), Magnus took Alec’s hand, ignoring the muttered: “backs shouldn’t do that.” They ignored the living room and went straight to the kitchen, where Magnus threw himself onto one of the bar stools and lay his head on the cool marble of the kitchen island. “Cook.”

“Of course, your majesty.” But Alec didn’t seem to mind Magnus’ bossiness. Instead, he got eggs, flour and milk out and poured some oil into the pan. Alec wasn’t a brilliant chef but anyone can make pancakes with a few tries, making it one of the only viable option if he didn’t want to ruin Christmas.

(Alec was far too worried about ruining Christmas.)

A few minutes spent in comfortable silence, Alec flipped the pancakes and stacked four onto a plate, making sure to keep them hungry if they were going to survive the feast later on. “Maple syrup, Nutella or lemon and sugar?”

“It’s a maple syrup kind of day today.” Alec chuckled and threw the small squeezy bottle at Magnus’ head, who was suddenly so tired he didn’t even complain when it hit with a painful thud. “Thanks,” he muttered, eyes half-lidded, pushing another laugh past Alec’s lips.

Alec, only about halfway through his own pancake, didn’t seem to realise the act. No matter how well they knew each other, Magnus had centuries of acting practice on him and could feign anything if he wanted to. Clearly, he’d feigned being fine with being hit with a bottle.

It became obvious when Magnus suddenly called “CATCH!” and threw a large chunk of pancake at Alec’s face, hitting with a resounding slap, sticking persistently to his pale skin.

“Really?”

“Really.” Alec wasn’t one to back up from a challenge. Ripping off a bit of his own pancake, he fought dirty and threw it directly at Magnus’ designer night-shirt. “Oh, it is on,” the man hissed, picking up the entirety of his second pancake and throwing it at Alec. The man, as the Shadowhunter he was, ducked and let the pancake at the wall. Except, Alec was Alec, not just a Shadowhunter, and on his way up (somehow) he managed to trip, falling backwards and landing on his back with a louder sound than any pancake bullet could make.

“Ow.”

Magnus stared down at him, worry clouding his features for just a second before he cracked up. Peals of laughter repeating over and over and over until he was barely on his stool anymore, face as red as Alec’s when he was complimented. Alec couldn’t really retain his dignity, trying to drag himself back to his feet whilst ardently pretending the whole ordeal just hadn’t happened. Magnus had finally tried to hold back his laughter, chuckled puffing through his sealed lips as a blood vessel suddenly became prominent on his forehead. Their eyes caught.

One.

Two.

Thr-

Alec couldn’t hold it; laughter bubbled out of him, fast and loud. His body shook and his eyes stung but he regained his wits, his hand clasping the island for support. Each time they calmed down, more laughter slipped out, only dying down once neither of them seemed to be able to take it anymore.

“Come on,” Magnus wheezed, “we’ve got things to do.”

“Like what?”

“Well neither of us have got anything for Sherman. And you need to get something for Clary.”

“It’s Christmas, Magnus. Nothing’s open. Can’t you just…I don’t know, magic something up.” Magnus gasped, hand held over his heart. “How dare you. You don’t just magic up Christmas presents. You think them through! Put your heart and soul into them-“

“You don’t even know Simon’s name.”

“I know Sheldon’s name perfectly well.” Their eyes caught and neither could stuff the smiles down any further, toothy grins flashing in the early morning light. “And we still have to buy presents. I’d really rather not have either of your siblings onto me for forgetting to buy certain members presents.”

“Magnus, it’s Christmas. Nothing’s open.”

“You forget who you’re talking to. I can portal us anywhere. Including places that don’t celebrate Christmas as a national holiday. Have I ever taken you to Dubai Mall?”

“Not that I remember.”

“Then your life is sorely lacking. Go shower and get changed, we have shopping to do.”

“No one should sound that excited saying the word shopping.”

Magnus faked a dramatic sigh. “How am I with such a heathen?”

“I could say the same.”

Magnus gasped. “How dare you!” Both of them were chuckling again as Alec went into the main bathroom to have a quick shower (five minutes in, two minutes out), blowing a quick kiss behind him. Magnus smiled. The Alec he’d met so short a time ago would never have done that. It felt brilliant.

~*~

Alec sighed. It had to be shopping, didn’t it? Of all the things Christmas provided, shopping should not have been one of them. And Magnus couldn’t even claim it was a tradition, not when the entirety of the US was down for the day. Despite this, he suffered silently, withholding a put-out sigh as Magnus dragged him through a portal and into a bustling mall. If Alec wasn’t so used to the surprise by now, it would have been one hell of a scare. One moment, there was silence. Peace, quiet, just the intermittent smiles as he looked at the small bits of colour Magnus had forced on his person. Then there was this. Kids screaming, heat stifling and pressure thick.

Magnus didn’t seem to care. Taking Alec’s hand, he carefully weaved through the crowd, somehow keeping even the most officious of shoppers from coming too close to Alec (because Magnus may have been dramatic but he wasn’t dim). Alec smiled and let him be guided through the waves of tourists, going from shop to shop to shop-

Half an hour later and they had nothing to show for it.

Clary and Simon were almost impossible to buy for. Magnus had already gotten Clary art supplies, which pretty much took the only idea Alec had away. And then Simon…well, neither of them knew what the hell to get him. Simon was one of those people that you definitely knew what he liked (because he talked about it incessantly) but you weren’t quick sure how to show that without a) buying something worth far too much, or b) getting something that felt a little too personal for someone who you barely knew. Magnus had more freedom, being as ‘mysterious’ as he was but Alec felt the never-ending pressure to find something that was suitable for someone very close to those he was close to without being close to himself.

“I have an idea,” Magnus finally stated when they walked out of yet another record store, head snapping up and eyes flashing a lightning shade of gold. “How would you feel about giving a joint gift?” Alec had thought about it, before dismissing it as taking it one step too far. That’s what married couples did, not only just serious couples celebrating their first Christmas together.

“What are you thinking?” Alec replied, in lieu of an answer.

“A bass guitar. Pricey, I know, but between us, acceptable. He’s been whining every time I see him about how his last one is barely holding on to life.” Alec’s eyebrows furrowed as he thought through the logistics. Admittedly, it was a fair thought and his sister would definitely like him for being thoughtful. He could say it was all Magnus if they teased him about actually liking Simon.

It sounded like a plan.

“Sure. But you have to choose. I don’t know the difference between a bass and a guitar.”

“Oh, you innocent child, I will teach you the wonders of musical instruments one day yet.” Alec shuddered with a grimace. “Don’t call me innocent.”

“Okay, fine, that one’s a little weird,” Magnus capitulated with a brazen smile. Leading the way again, they made their way down a floor and to a small music shop with a startlingly dark aesthetic. The mall, in its entirety, was built for light (which, Alec would admit readily, was a bit odd on Christmas day). Yet, tucked away in an unknown corner, the shop seemed to seep light from the space around it.

Alec only understood once he was inside, surrounded by the thick smell of something he didn’t recognise and the lulling sounds of an indie-rock song. It was like being taken into another world. And, despite having little to no interest in music, he was beginning to understand the appeal.

Magnus immediately led him to a wall, which he presumed hung the shop’s selection of bass guitars. Scanning the wall, Alec had little to no idea about the quality of the instruments but one caught his eye. Sleek black and a presumably good size for Simon, the bass was the perfect mix of Shadowhunter aesthetic and musical appeal. And, if Simon was going to try and balance music and a new Shadowhunter career, it was always best to have the best of both worlds.

“What about this one?” Alec asked, fingers tracing over the faint silver trim around the edge.

“Perfect. Good quality too.”

“You know that just by looking.”

“I know that from the price.” Alec’s eyes immediately darted to the tag, widening when he saw the blasphemous price they’d printed.

“Okay, no. I take it back. We’re not getting this one.”

“Oh, darling, you underestimate me.” Magnus produced a sleek-looking credit card, pressing it into Alec’s hand before he could protest. “If I get anything less than the best, I’ll look like a fool. Never trust a-,”

“Stingy warlock, I know,” Alec laughed, wondering when that line would finally get old (if it hadn’t already). “Fine, but I’m paying you back somehow.”

“You already have.” Not willing to test the meaning of his words, Alec unhooked the bass and brought it the counter, buying a cheap case to go with it so they could travel with it without problems. Paid and slung over his back, Alec went in search of Magnus, who had disappeared somewhere behind one of the many shelves.

He almost gave Alec a heart attack (but there was a reason for Shadowhunter training) when he popped up behind the furthest, waving a CD in his hands. “I’ve got it!”

“Got what?” Alec asked, approaching cautiously.

“Your gift for Clary. It’s the perfect mix of I don’t know you and I hate you and I genuinely care about you and want to get you something nice.”

“What if we’re neither.”

“Then you’d be lying so come on.”

“What is it? Who are…One D?”

“You don’t know One Direction?” Alec really couldn’t tell whether Magnus was being dead serious or viciously teasing. His mouth was open and gaping, floundering for more words that never came.

“Alec,” Magnus seemed to warn, though his eyes were like two different tales. “One Direction are the most popular band of this decade.”

Alec shrugged and looked down at the cover, eyebrows drawn inwards. “I’ve never heard of them.”

“Well that clears things up then.”

“Clears what up?”

“What we do before the Christmas party!” Magnus beamed gleefully, plucking the CD off the shelf. “Now that presents are all done and dusted, we have time to spare.”

“And what will be doing exactly?”

“Listening to One Direction, of course. They’re not the most artistically challenging artist of my lifetime, but they certainly are the catchiest.” Alec could never say no to those eyes. So, with a heaving sigh, and a distressed nod, he gave in. Magnus, as perky as ever, kissed his cheek and sauntered off to pay.

Needless to say, they spend the next three hours listening to One Direction with Magnus dancing wildly as Alec pretended to hate it whilst still nodding along when he thought Magnus wasn’t looking. And maybe, just maybe, there was a moment when Alec started humming. Christmas cheer did odd things to the human condition.

Time ran away from them. Magnus was still hammering out What Makes You Beautiful for the third time when Alec finally noticed the clock, creating a sudden ringing in his ears. Quickly, he rushed to the speaker and shut it off, wincing as Magnus’ voice rang loud, as out of tune as it was earnest. “We’re going to be late.”

“What, it’s-,” Magnus’ eyes caught the clock. “Shit!” He looked down at himself. “I’m not ready!” Alec would argue otherwise. Whatever he’d gone out in earlier looked perfectly suitable for a party but Alec knew better than to argue. Magnus’ outfits cultivated his confidence; he’d need it, desperately, if he were to survive being in the Institute for any stretch of time. But they had a bare fifteen minutes and Magnus changing was going to take at least double that.

“I need help,” Alec blurted, the idea forming in his mind as he spoke. “On what to wear.” Alec never let anyone else dress him. It made him uncomfortable and self-conscious and every bit as self-aware as he felt disgusted. But it was Christmas, and this was Magnus. He trusted him. And if it meant they got out quicker, then so be it.

Magnus didn’t even argue, a childish glimmer in his eye. “Of course.” With a click of his finger, his own outfit shifted and changed, outrageously brighter yet all the more beautiful for it. Alec gaped, mouth hanging as open as a fish. “You can- you can just magic yourself ready.”

“Of course.”

“But- but you always take so long.”

“It’s more fun that way. But, we’re running late and you need an outfit.” Magnus’ flurry of movement almost took away the paralysing shock yet the tantalising edge of it remained, always at the edge of Alec’s conscious. He went over all the times they’d been late because Magnus was standing in front of a mirror; they all suddenly rang in a different light now. Not particularly worse, but different. Some even made him smile. Oh, Magnus was so obvious sometimes.

“Okay,” Alec finally said, pushing it to the back of his mind, “but just don’t-.” He didn’t know what he was trying to say, but it was on the edge of his tongue. But even he understood how wrong it sounded, how offensive it might come across. Gay. The word was there, loud and clear, borne from an age-old condition of inferiority and fear. He’d been closeted almost ten times longer than he hadn’t; some things just stayed. “Don’t make me too flamboyant?”

Magnus looked at him carefully, childish glimmer replaced by the equally daunting and beautiful shine. It was one of the first things that had made his age click with Alec; there was a life long-lived in there, centuries of war, pain and love. “You don’t need to hide yourself.”

“I know. It’s just…I don’t think I could stand more. Yet. Not in front of my family.”

“I understand. But one day, even if it’s just in this apartment, I’m going to make you look amazing.”

“Sure,” Alec agreed with an honest smile, “that would be great.” Alec didn’t know if it would really matter all that much; he didn’t know whether he’d like makeup on his face or colours on his skin but he wouldn’t say he wasn’t curious. He’d stared long enough at Magnus to gain a healthy amount of curiosity. It wasn’t something he vied after but it would be fun to try, maybe to put on when they went out, or special occasions. Just something…extra.

“Okay. So, subtle. Masculine but sleek. How do you feel about makeup? Minimal, I promise. Just something to…” Magnus flashed his hands. It was easy enough to get his point but it made Alec stall. He knew makeup could be subtle, so subtle that he wouldn’t even know if it was on or not, but on himself? Wouldn’t it be so obvious? Especially to those who knew him best…

But it was Christmas. And maybe Christmas cheer really was getting to his brain or maybe he just felt hopeful but he nodded nonetheless, whispering a small “I think that’s okay.” Magnus smile was gentle and kind as he cupped Alec’s face and pressed a light kiss to his lips. “Perfect. We’ll be done in no time.”

Alec was soon pushed into a seat, told to shut his eyes and Magnus did his magic, pressing an odd stick into his eye and running something through his hair before throwing some clothes at him and telling them to put them on. It was all done in about five minutes (a minor miracle for Magnus) before Magnus beckoned him before the mirror.

Alec gasped.

“Wow. This is…amazing. How?”

“Just a little bit of eyeliner, some hair gel and good colour choice.” Alec was almost too busy staring at himself to listen. A long-lost vanity returned to him as he tilted his head so his eyes caught the light. You could barely see the line, done in a subtle shade of brown that did nothing more than make him look more awake. His hair was different. It was bold, although not ostentatious. It hung loose over his face, but in a persistently artful way, every strand purposefully placed. His clothes were barely bold but they were comfortable and made up for any lack of design in colour. The midnight blue shirt matched his eyes, making him look like a fierce warrior, the black trousers with his own combat boots creating a dark silhouette that looked so very Alec. It was him just…emphasised.

Alec hadn’t imagined this. He’d thought Magnus might style him in the way he styled himself. Made him bright, even if he’d promised to hold back. Instead, he’d done his job whilst throwing Alec only out of the comfort zones he could live without.

“Thank you,” Alec finally said, leaning in to examine his face. “This is…I don’t know what to say.”

“Say nothing. Now, let’s go before we’re late.”

Knocked from his stupor, Alec nodded, but not without inputting: “did you just warn us about being late? Who are you and what have you done with Magnus?” Magnus laughed loudly, shining Alec a toothy grin. Alec hoarded it like a dragon; beaming smiles were as rare as treasure and deserved to be treated as such. Although, Alec couldn’t help but think, they certainly were liberal today.

This Christmas cheer was beginning to look infectious.

“I’d rather not have Jace send me any more texts.” Magnus held up his phone. “I think we’re on at least ten.” Alec rushed over to his phone and winced. “More like twenty. Why…by the Angel, Magnus we are definitely going to be late.”

“Eh, it’s not as if they didn’t expect it. Now come on, we’ll be the earliest late people to ever walk this Earth.”

Alec sighed, pinching his nose with an air of empty forgiveness. “Let’s just go,” he muttered, preparing himself for the worst of it. He tried not to think about what they were walking to, or what he’d miss out by doing so. The Christmas parties weren’t the worst thing in the year to happen but it was a lot of false cheer and boredom, mixed in with a little too much business to be pleasurable. This year, at least, he’d have Magnus by his side, and something to look forward to on the other end. Still, forgoing just staying inside with Magnus felt like a hell-send.

They walked out of the apartment together, hailing a taxi as quickly as they could (which took a shamefully long time) and ordered it one block away from the Institute. It raised fewer questions. The journey was silent, full of restless leg bouncing (though to say Magnus was also doing that would be a lie) and quiet comforts.

Once Alec saw the Institute looming ahead, he checked his watch. He blanched. “Magnus…”

Magnus’ head snapped to his watch. “We’re dead, aren’t we?”

“Nice of you to be inclusive.”

They ran.

When they reached the Institute’s doors, it was 7:30. By the time they’d gotten to the Sanctuary’s doors, it was 7:32. They were an hour and two minutes late. Alec took a deep breath; give him the strength to prepare for this wrath.

They were barely inside when Alec practically got tackled into the wall, a violent Isabelle glaring up at him. “Alexander Gideon Lightwood,” she enunciated, the undertone of threat like a shining beacon from her blood-red lips. Magnus was one step from cowering as he tried to lean casually against the wall. Isabelle wouldn’t dare insult him without a proper reason, but she had no such qualms with Alec.

She looked all-powerful in her five-inch heels (conservative, he thought, but that’s what their parents did), a curling snarl on her lips. “If it wasn’t Christmas, I’d kill you. Do you know what I’ve had to suffer through? Everyone decided to redirect their questions for you to me. Do you know what that’s like, Alec? Do you?”

“So you’re not going to kill me?”

“Of course that’s what you take from this.”

Alec just smiled, letting the tension release from his muscles, a soft smile taking over his lips as he looked down at his little sister. “Merry Christmas, Izzy.”

“You too. Now, get mingling before I murder someone else. The Christmas spirit can only hold for so long.” Alec laughed, taking Magnus’ hand. “Oh, and you’re looking good,” Isabelle said as she strutted ahead of them, her blood-red dress swaying with every movement, where she finally joined Simon. Alec couldn’t help his ever-growing smile.

In an event that warmed Alec’s cold heart, when he looked around the room, he was surprised to see Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike, all chattering under the enormous Christmas tree. The dancers looked professional, which wasn’t as much of a surprise when you estimated their age, and the Shadowhunters seemed to be taking it in their stride, joining them with the fluidity of warriors that had trained their whole lives to use their body as they did.

He couldn’t help but catch Magnus’ eye, all earlier self-conscious replaced by heart-warming love. It was Magnus that dragged them towards the dancefloor, waiting patiently until another song started up. But the band had gone quiet, although it was all too easy to see what was happening.

Jace had taken over the piano, smile beaming at Alec with a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Dance,” he mouthed, before his hands began running over the keys, beginning the notes of Aria, Bach’s famous waltz.

Magnus dragged him into the centre before he had time to argue, surprise replacing fear as they began to sway in simple, easy steps. They spun as the music rose and fell, their smiles like light in the darkness, their eyes locked on each other.

For a first Christmas, it had been pretty great.

“I love you,” Alec whispered as the song ended, unable to break the moment.

“I love you too,” he simply replied with.


	5. A Very Malec Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, this was quick! Have another update, I guess! This one is short, and cheesy, but at least that was what I was aiming for :D

Oh god, he was shaking. He never shook. Never. Magnus was composed, always. He did things with purpose, not unnecessary anxiety. Yet today it plagued him. Tore through his body like a bullet, making him sweat in rivulets, beads of water making his usually pristine hair stick to his forehead. A little bit of magic was enough to make him presentable, yet he could feel the stickiness of his skin underneath the glamour, something that could never be washed away without a decent shower.

Today, he was going to propose to Alec.

He clenched his fists before quickly unravelling them, digging into his pockets again, just to check. But the box hadn’t moved. It wasn’t going to. Even if there had once been a chance of it falling out, it had soon been ended with a spell or two. This box was here to stay, there was no point in checking. He checked again.

Thumb brushing against the soft velvet of the box, he reminded himself that this was going to go perfectly. He’d get down on one knee, it would be endlessly romantic and most importantly, Alec would say yes.

Hopefully.

Magnus hated relying on hope. It had let him down one too many times. Uncertainty was a curse and had failed to excite him in centuries. Except with Alexander, of course. The uncertainty of their relationship had fuelled him as nothing else had. Except even that had been torn apart. But they’d built it back up, on solid foundations this time, and had settled into their domestic routine all too quickly.

Except this was as exciting. As much as it made him shake and sweat and want to give up on the damn thing and do something else, it excited him. Just like their relationship had been at the very start. There was something poetic about that. Not even the domesticity of the situation could change it. Because Alec was one of those people where having one didn’t mean they couldn’t have the other. He was a fierce warrior as much as he loved napping on the couch, Chairman Meow settled comfortably on his stomach.

Magnus held onto the picture in his mind and drew in another breath. He was Magnus Bane, there was nothing for him to be anxious about.

Peering out the window, he noted the clouds building in the sky: great. Of course this was the only day this week that the sun wasn’t beaming down, heating New York to its capacity. The sun would set soon, leaving only the hazy humidity of the day behind and the thick grey of the sky. Well, stargazing was off the table.

Magnus leant against the cool glass, ignoring the way his own body heat was fogging up the glass. He twiddled his thumbs like a reprimanded school body, intertwining them and releasing them on a perpetual loop of insanity, losing awareness of the movement all together within seconds.

He was waiting for Alec, which felt like an entirely new concept. He’d gotten ready in all of five minutes today, letting the magic do the work, knowing his hand was shaking too much to even get the right amount of gel in his hair. Alec thought they were just going out on a date tonight, completely unaware of Magnus’ anxious fidgeting in the living room. Finally noticing the action again, he forced his hands to the side, hoping forced stillness would recreate the same in his mind.

It didn’t.

He focused on the feeling of the box hitting his side as he shifted instead. He had to make this perfect, he reminded himself; if he kept this up, he was going to ruin the whole night. Magnus had envisioned what this night might be like his entire life, he was going to lock himself his room for the next hundred years if he managed to screw it all up.

The box seemed to hang heavier when Alec timidly shuffled into the room, staring at his feet. “Do I look alright?” Magnus was usually the one to get Alec ready for their dates. And before that, it had been Isabelle. But tonight, Magnus had let Alec do the work himself, maybe just to satisfy his curiosity. And my…did Alec do well. Surprisingly well. Shockingly well. “Is it that bad?”

“No! No,” oh god, he already sounded nervous. “It’s…amazing.” Alec was wearing a navy suit, composed yet simple. Nothing flashy yet so well fitted that Magnus almost couldn’t drag his eyes away.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Alec teased with newfound confidence. But Magnus wasn’t focusing on his words. He suddenly felt a bit faint, like all the anxiety had caught up with him. He felt himself collapse a little into the window and although he’d barely moved, Alec was already in his space, the back of his hand against Magnus’ forehead. “Are you okay? You feel hot. You can’t get a fever, right? Like, there isn’t some warlock fever I don’t know about.”

Magnus desperately tried to laugh it off with a quick “I’m fine”, pushing himself back onto his own two feet, waving Alec’s hand away as he strode to the door, wishing for nothing more than some fresh air.

“Magnus,” Alec called after him, stopping Magnus as he was throwing open the door. “You know we don’t have to go out if you’re not feeling well, right?”

“Of course,” Magnus replied with a falsely large smile. “Now come on. We’re going to be late.” He was pretty sure Alec muttered something about them always being late but nothing followed it.

They walked through the now dark streets together, illuminated in dirty-gold light. Magnus stuffed his hands in his pocket, avoiding the embarrassment of Alec finding out about his clammy hands. He shivered, and it certainly wasn’t because of any cold.

Magnus reminded himself that his plans were simple. A nice stroll through the park, a meal at their favourite fancy restaurant and a proposal with pudding. Simple. Easy. Something Alec would love; not overstating but with enough of Magnus-flair that it didn’t feel unnatural.

They made their way to the park, Alec practically running after Magnus as he hurried through the slowing streets of New York. The subway was claustrophobic and hot and Alec was starting to give him worried stares when he wasn’t busy looking out the window with a wistful sigh.

They were alone in the park by eight o’clock, any daytime activities packed up and gone, leaving them their little patch on the edge of Central Park. He took a deep breath. They were alone, good. This was just for them.

He started to stroll when Alec held him back. “Magnus, stop.” He was clutching Magnus’ sleeve, eyebrows drawn so far inwards they practically created a ‘v’ on his forehead. “What’s up? You’ve been acting off all evening. You won’t hold my hand. You won’t talk. You look like you’re running a fever…”

Magnus kneeled and took the box out of pocket. “Will you marry me?”

“What?”

Oh fuck. This was all going wrong, this was…this was right. “Will you marry me?”

Alec was beaming with watery eyes; they looked like stars, the blue shining like the sea under moonlight. All worry had been wiped off his face, replaced by an ethereal peace, trapping them both in this endless moment.

Magnus opened the box to reveal the simple gold ring, a band with a small engraving on the inside: Aku Cinta Kamu. I love you. “Before you answer, I’m going to ruin this even more by saying what I was supposed to say before I got out the ring.” Magnus clambered to his feet and stood close. “I’ve never been married. Never thought I would. It just…wasn’t for me. Then I met you. We’ve had a bumpy ride, and a long one. We’ve gone through things I’ve gone through with no one else before. We’ve survived a war. And Camille. And I know I’ve ruined this whole proposal but knowing you, you won’t care at all. I love you, Alexander.” Magnus’ eyes shimmered with pure and untampered love. “I want to know that I will love you for the rest of my immortal life, more than I have ever loved anyone before. I love you. So, will you marry me?”

Alec’s smile was breaking, cracking at the edges as tears built in the corners of his eyes. But he was a Shadowhunter, and they always knew the best deflection techniques. He gripped Magnus by his lapels and crushed their lips together, pouring everything into it like it was their very first kiss all over again.

It was perfect.

They didn’t need fancy dinners, or perfect walks, or a ring snuck into a pudding. They just needed each other. And this. Always this.

“Yes,” Alec murmured as he pulled away, another smile breaking out across his face. “Yes, yes, a hundred times yes.”

So sure, maybe it didn’t go to plan. Nothing they ever did went to plan. But that didn’t dampen their love. If anything, it only made it stronger.


End file.
